Crash Course
by EFAW
Summary: Tony is going to help McGee get over his fear the only way he knows how: by making him face it head on. Oneshot.


**Summary: **Tony is going to help McGee get over his fear the only way he knows how: by making him face it head on. Oneshot.

**Warnings: **Set sometimes in season three. Spoiler for one detail in Hometown Hero, I guess… No other spoilers.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own NCIS.

**Read and enjoy!**

**OOOO**

**Crash Course**

"Tony, I don't want to do this."

"Come on, McGee, you gotta get behind the wheel sometime. There _will_ come a day when the bus won't get you where you need to go. What if you're on a date and the girl has to come pick you up? Not cool, man."

Tim eyed the car, uncertainty and fear hovering in his eyes. Tony stared up at him from the passenger seat, waiting expectantly, and even though Tony was trying his best, McGee could see the impatience slowly rising up in his co-worker's eyes.

Tony didn't understand. Just the mere _thought_ of getting behind the steering wheel had his hands sweating and shaking.

He tried to cover it up with annoyance. Crossing his arms in the hope that it would cover their shaking, he glared sulkily at Tony. "Tony, I _can_ drive. I have my license and everything. Do you want me to show you?" He had a license. Every five years he got it renewed, just so he would have his license.

He didn't _drive_, but he _did_ have a license.

Tony seemed to know what he was thinking, because he just held the keys out and shook them. "Come on, take the keys and get behind the wheel like a good little Probie."

McGee took a step back as though Tony were attempting to hand him a poisonous snake. "Tony, it's fine. I'll take the bus home. See you tomorrow."

Letting out a breath, Tony climbed out of the car, rolling his eyes at McGee's stubborness. McGee wasn't going to get anywhere if he couldn't drive, and having a license was _not_ the same as being able to drive. He even balked when he was asked to drive the NCIS van, and one of these days he was going to get in trouble when he didn't. So Tony was _going_ to get McGee behind this steering wheel, and McGee was _going_ to drive the car like the good little Probie he was, and everything would be right with the world.

Jogging up beside the Probie, Tony dug into his pocket, pulling out a thin plastic card. Making sure he was out of reach of McGee's long arms, he held it up. "McGoo, I think you will find it _very_ hard to get home without your bus pass."

McGee stopped, whirling around and staring at the card in Tony's hand. Disbelieving, he pulled out his wallet and flipped through it, the disbelief growing the annoyed shock when he realized that Tony _did_ have his bus pass in hand. "Tony, give it back! I can't believe you went through my wallet!"

"Really? After everything I've done to you, _that's_ what you can't believe? That honestly surprises me." Tony took another step back towards the car, flipping McGee's bus pass in his fingers. "Now, come and get the bus pass…" He waved the pass enticingly, all the while stepping back towards the car. McGee followed, with no intention of climbing into the car, but with every intention of getting his bus pass back. He couldn't get home without it. The bus didn't give change for a hundred.

McGee watched in exasperation as Tony once more climbed into the passenger's seat, patting the driver's seat in invitation. "Tony, I'm not going to drive."

"You will if you want your bus pass back."

"No, I'm not." His hands were sweating again, and he could feel sweat breaking out on his brow. Tony didn't get it. He _couldn't_ drive. He could drive, but he _couldn't drive_. "Tony, I'm not getting into the car."

Tony just grinned.

**XXXX**

Tim was in the car.

He wasn't actually sure how it happened. He suspected bribery or coercion or hypnotism. That was the only possible explanation. Tim couldn't imagine why he would willingly get behind the wheel of a car.

But here he was. Sitting in the driver's seat, already buckled ---because even though he hadn't driven near ten years now, he remembered the basics--- clutching the steering wheel like his life depended on it. His knuckles were already white, and he was pretty sure his hands were going to slip right off the wheel and he was going to kill them both.

They hadn't even left the garage yet.

Tony sighed, leaning back with his shades on, and looked over at Tim. "McGoo, relax. There's nothing to worry about." Smiling reassuringly, he clapped a hand on Tim's shoulder. "I got your six."

That wasn't the most endearing prospect. Oh, Tony could be reliable, when the occasion called for it. If Tony had your back in a dangerous situation, you knew you were covered. But Tim didn't see how Tony could posibly be of any help if they happened to _get in a crash_ while Tim was driving. It wasn't like this was a driver's ed car, where the instructor in the passenger's seat had mirrors and a brake too. This was Tim, on his own, driving.

"Should we really do this, Tony?" Tim asked, trying to calm his breathing down. He was _fine_, he was smart, he could talk himelf out of this… "I mean, I really don't think the agency would want us to mess up a company car." Tony may have Tim's six, but that didn't mean he wanted Tim driving his precious car.

Tony just grinned again. "It'll be fine, McScaredy. Now, onward!"

Tim was stubborn. It ran in the McGee family. If a McGee didn't want to do something, then by golly they weren't going to do it, and not even the hand of God could move them from their path. Even shy, soft-spoken McGee had gotten that gene.

Unfortunately, Tony was stubborn too. And he had a much stronger will then Tim did.

So, with shaking hands, Tim reached out and put the car in reverse.

Somehow, he managed to back the car out without hitting the cars on either side. And he managed to pull slowly out of the parking lot and onto the street without crashing into anything or running anything or anyone over. That was a good sign. It meant that, even though he hadn't driven in ten years, maybe he hadn't forgotten how to do this.

The first car he saw coming towards him had him stomping on the brakes. Tony rolled his eyes. "McParanoid, we're not gonna crash into anything. That's why we're doing this in the middle of Sunday morning. Anyone who is smart is sleeping in. Anyone else is at church. And that car's twenty feet away. Now get going. You'll be _fine_." Rolling his eyes again, Tony crosed his arms, huffing impatiently.

Tim bit his lip, slowly sliding back into the lane again, and tried to keep his hands from shaking so much. The more his hands shook, the more he was convinced he was going to get them both killed, which only made his hands shake more. It was a nasty vicious cycle. But Tim had long ago learned that the best way to get something torturous over with was to just let them do what they wanted ---or, in this case, actually do what they wanted--- and they would get bored and go away. It worked for bullies, it would work for Tony. He just had to drive a little bit until Tony got bored and made them go back.

He just had to keep from crashing and killing them both in the meantime. No biggie. He could do this.

Oh god…

"Turn left up here, Probie," Tony ordered like a driving school teacher, nodding at the upcoming light. Creeping along, Tim changed lanes and got in the left turn lane. If Tony was getting impatient with McGee's cautious, much-slower-than-the-speed-limit driving, he didn't let it show on his face. Too much. He just kept barking orders like a drill sergeant, obviouly revelling in the power he had over the newbie.

The light was red, so Tim just at there, idling, like he was supposed to.

The light turned green.

Tim still just at there.

When it was obvious that Tim wasn't going to move, Tony sighed, pushing his sunglasses up and turning to face Tim. "Alright, what's the problem now, McGoo?"

Tim swallowed, eyeing the intersection. "…um…a l-left turn, Tony? Isn't that k-kinda risky?" More accidents happened in left turns lanes than anywhere else on the road. He didn't know where that came from ---it was highly possible he just made it up--- but it sounded convincing and it made him not want to turn at _all_. Right turns, he could do. Those hugged the curb. But left turns were just asking way too much.

_Now_ Tony let his impatience show. Sighing through his nose, the Senior Field Agent closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "McIdiot, you're not gonna crash just because you made a left turn. You're not gonna crash at all. If you haven't noticed, there's _no one on the road_. So would you just _drive_?"

Tim could have pointed out that there _were_ people on the road ---just not the amount normally associated with Washington traffic. But he had a feeling that would just put Tony in an even worse attitude, so he licked his lip nervously and turned back to the road.

Only to find the light had turned red again.

Beside him, Tony let out an annoyed sound, and Tim cringed. He'd known this was a bad idea from the start. Why couldn't Tony just let it go? So what if Tim rode the bus? It wasn't like he needed a car otherwise, he didn't go anywhere. And, despite what Tony thought, Tim didn't go on _nearly_ enough dates to need to pick up the girl. And even if he _did_ date, he always met her at the restaurant. It was easier that way. He could get by without a car, it was all good.

Without warning, as it was wont to do, to light turned straight from red to green. Swallowing, Tim glanced over at Tony, only to find his co-worker watching him…waiting.

He had to do it now.

Eyes flicking nervously from side to side, checking for any oncoming traffic _whatsoever_, the young agent crept out into the street, slowly turning left. There were no cars, which made this all the easier. Tim wasn't sure if he'd have steeled up the nerve to make a left turn when there were other cars around. People could _die_ doing left turns.

But he made it into the correct lane without incident, so it was all good. Considering the last time he drove, he'd been sixteen and crashed his car into the side of a bus, he felt he was doing extremely well.

Tony seemed to think so too, praising him in his own, unique, Tony-esque way. "Good job, McGoo. You managed to make a left turn without killing up both." The senior agent leaned over, peering at the display panel, and Tim wondered what Tony was looking at. He got his answer real quick. "Now, Speed Racer, how 'bout we try going the actual speed limit?" His voice was patronizing and a little annoyed. Tony seemed to run out of patience with McGee quicker than most.

Tim's eyes never left the road, not even to flicker to the speed panel. "W-what's the speed limit?"

"About thirty-five."

"And…uh, w-what are we going?"

"About _fifteen_." At that, Tim's eyes _did_ flicker down to the dash, long enough to see that Tony was wrong, but not by much. The arrow was hovering over the twenty mph mark.

Pause.

"N-no, I think I'm, ah, fine doing this speed." Thirty-five was a little too fast. Hell, right now _twenty_ felt too fast. Tim heard Tony sigh in exasperation, but he didn't say anything. There wasn't much he could do about it, other than reach over and press the gas pedal himelf ---which would _not_ be a good plan. Even Tony wasn't that stupid.

After a few more minutes of careful driving and more barked orders of where to go from Tony ---with more left turns! Tim was gaining confidence with every turn he made!--- Tim finally mustered up the courge to ask Tony what he'd been trying to ask since the beginning in the garage.

"Tony, why are you doing this?"

Tony grinned, and right away Tim could tell that he as going to get a slapstick response. "Well, Probie, like I said, I want to help your dating prospects---"

"No Tony, for real. Why are you doing this?"

There was a pause, and Tony's grin slipped a little bit into a more serious expression. After a long moment, the senior agent spoke, and Tim was surprised at the seriousness in Tony's voice.

"McGee, you have to be able to drive. That's all there is to it. One of these days, you're gonna need to get in a car, and your car-phobia will hold you back. Bad things will happen. I can assure you of that. You just…you need to be able to drive." Tony fell silent, and when Tim glanced over, the other man still had a serious look on his face.

A pause. "And you want to see me make a fool of myself."

"Well, that too."

Tim just nodded. "Alright, Tony."

**XXXX**

They had ---Tim had--- been driving for nearly two hours. Tim was slowly gaining confidence with every passing moment, and Tony kept grinning like he was handing the knowleldge of the world over to a protégé. All was going well. Churches were letting out about now, and the road was slowly filling up, but Tim had yet to freak out over that. If anything, now that he was settling into driving again, he seemed to view the extra cars as a challenge rather than something to fear.

Of course, with all the extra traffic, he'd had to speed up a little, but Tony was proud to say that Tim was now only three miles under the speed limit. Impressive, considering where they'd started at. Tony was even content to sit back and close his eyes for a bit, pulling his sunglasses on. "You're doing good, Probie. Just keep driving right like that." If they kept this up, he might even get a nap.

And then it happened.

The bus pulled up.

Tony could hear Tim's breath catch in his throat, and he could see from the corner of his eye the way Probie's hands tightened on the steering wheel, almost jerking the wheel and sending them into the next lane. Tony had to resist the urge to reach over and grab the wheel to keep such a thing from happening. He knew McGee was scared, but he also knew that if he did something like that, McGee's confidence would plummet and all this hard work would have been wasted.

So Tony just gritted his teeth and dug his fingernails into the arms of his seat.

"You can handle this, McGoo. The bus is two lanes away and will pass us _any second now. _So just _relax. _You aren't going to crash into it."

"But Tony---!"

"Probie, listen to your Senior Field Agent! You _will not _crash into it! Understand?"

"…"

"_McGee!"_

"U-understand."

Tony let out a breath, watching the bus chug it's way past them and out of sight, disappearing somewhere behind them. Slowly, his fingers uncurled from the arms of his seat. "Good. Very good. Now relax the death grip, McFear, and keep driving. You were doing good."

McGee's hands didn't relax, and if anything, the trembling in his fingers just got more pronounced. A sharp glance over at the younger agent made Tony suck in a breath and snap, "McGee, pull over. Now." The other male's face was a disturbing shade of grey, and there was something in his face that made Tony sweat. This whole trip, he'd felt pretty comfortable in the passenger's seat. But right now, he was a little bit worried.

Not that he would ever admit it.

"McGee, _pull over now," _Tony snapped again, in his Boss voice. As though moving by instinct, McGee flipped his blinker and swerved into the shoulder. Tony winced as horns blared behind him, because McGee hadn't even looked ---which was strange, considering how conscientious he was about following all the other traffic laws--- but he still had that grey tinge to his face and was breathing unsteadily through his mouth.

The tremors in Probie's hands were unnoticeable until he forced his fingers to uncurl from the wheel. Tony hadn't, until this moment, realized just how deeply McGee's fear of driving ran, but now that he knew, he was ever more certain that this was the right course of action. He _would_ help McGoo get over this phobia of his if it was the last thing he ever did!

Well, hopefully it _wasn't_ the last thing he ever did. It would really, really suck if it was.

With his hands free of the steering wheel, McGee seemed to gain some of himself back. He jerked back in the seat, covering his face with his hands, and made an obvious effort to calm himself, but Tony could still hear a tinge of hysteria in the other agent's gasped breaths. Biting his lip, the senior agent unbuckled himself and climbed out of the car.

A few people passing by were watching curiously, and one even asked if they were alright, but Tony just waved them aside, reaching into the backseat for a bottle of water. They were fine. He had everything under control.

Climbing back into his seat, he popped the seal on the water, holding it out to McGee. "Here. Drink up. You look like you need it."

Carefully, McGee took the bottle, but his still-trembling hands made the water dance. Both agents winced as the liquid splashed out of the plastic and onto McGee's lap, but Tony didn't say anything, and McGee took a long swallow. When he was done drinking, his breathing no longer sounded so scared.

Tony though that was a good thing, but the tension in the car was still too thick for his liking.

So, he did what he had to, to lighten things up.

"How the _hell_ can you ride a bus if you're that scared of _passing_ one?"

McGee shrugged, eyes moving to the road and scanning for any oncoming threat, even if they were no longer driving on it. "Riding a bus and driving past a bus are two different things, Tony."

Okay, this was good. McGee was talking again. And he was doing it without stuttering. Tony could relax now. "How so? If I were afraid of busses, I wouldn't want to be anywhere _near_ one."

"I'm not afraid of busses, Tony."

"Oh." Really? Sure hadn't seemed that a moment ago. "Then what _are_ you afraid of?"

This was heading into uncharted territory known as _Personal Feelings_, a place that Tony normally avoided like the plague ---pun intended--- but McGee was talking and Tony just needed McGee to keep his mind off of what he was so afraid of and calm down completely so they could continue this lesson. If McGee wasn't thinking about crashing into busses, then he was a better driver.

Besides, McGee hadn't noticed Tony's unintentional breach into personal feelings-land. "I'm afraid of crashing into busses."

So much for not making McGee think about his fear. Even as Tony watched, Probie's fingers were tightening on the water bottle, and his jaw was tensing like he was clenching it. Great going, DiNozzo, just great.

"Aren't you afraid of getting into a crash in the bus, too?" he blurted, desperate to keep the conversation going. McGee was talking, and even if this was an unwelcome subject, he was _still_ calmer than before, which was a plus. McGoo wasn't so scared. Maybe there would be the chance to veer the conversation towards safer, more reasonable, less _personal_ subjects too, after they'd exhausted this one.

"I'm not afraid of crashing in the bus."

Now McGee sounded bemused, and the tension was leaving him. Good, good.

"Why not?" And there went his mouth again, probing in ever deeper waters, and soon enough Tony would find himself sinking in _other_ people's personal feeling and problems. Why did he have to keep talking? _Why_?

McGee was obliging enough to answer, though. "Because the bus would win, of course," he said, as matter-of-fact as announcing the weather. "Busses are bigger, so it would win in a car crash. About the only things that can beat a bus in a fight are semi trucks and brick walls. When a bus I'm on crashes into one of those, then we'll talk about whether I'm afraid of busses or not."

"Ah. I see." Alright, they'd finished that topic. Not, to find something relatively safer to talk about…

"Tony, do those clouds look dark to you?"

McGee spoke first, giving Tony another moment to think up a conversation starter. He only took a second to glance up out the windshield at the clouds in question. "Nah, no darker than normal. So what do you usually do on a Sunday morning, when I haven't called you out?"

"Tony, I think they're dark clouds. Rain clouds are dark." Had it not been for the worried note in McGee's voice, Tony would have been annoyed at Probie ignoring him. As it was, he was mildly perturbed, and he gave the clouds a second look.

"Alright, they're a little dark. Maybe it'll rain. No big deal. Sunday mornings, McWorrywort."

"R-right." Probie's eyes drifted back to the road, but his mind was only half on the conversation.

Swallowing, McGee tried to think of what he normally did on a Sunday morning. Normally, his morning routine came up easily enough, but right now, he was thinking about driving and he was thinking about rain clouds, and he couldn't even think of anything else. Nothing else was _important_ right now. He knew what Tony was trying to do, and even he noticed that when he was talking, he wasn't so scared, but he couldn't _remember_ what he normally did.

"McGoo?"

"Uh…" Think, _think_, he had to think and get his mind off the rain clouds---

A drop splattered on the windshield.

It was just a drop. One innocent little drop of water. But Tim stared at it as though it were the devil, and he could _feel_ his face drain of color. He was suddenly glad he wasn't driving, because his fingers tightened so convulsively on the water bottle that he heard the plastic creak and crumple.

Another drop splattered on the glass. Then a third, and suddenly the skies were opening up and drizzling on the windshield. Making a small, wounded sound, he blinked, trying to peer through the watery trails on the windshield, and suddenly he was no longer parked on the side of the road in Washington, but was back in Ohio, a new driver who got caught in a rainstorm.

Without thinking, his hands went back onto the steering wheel.

"McGee, you okay?"

He barely heard the voice, it sounded so far away.

_It was raining, he had to find the wipers or else he was probably going to crash into something…_

He glanced down at the dash.

And he flashed back.

_The rain started, and he only looked down a second, just to find the windshield wipers. The car was new, he didn't know where the controls were, and he just needed to find the wipers. When he looked up the side of the bus was coming right at him, and he froze, because there was no time to react. Everything---_

Everything went white.

**XXXX**

"Shit! _McGee!"_

It wasn't often that Tony swore, but right now the words fell off his tongue like the pick-up lines he so often used on girls. Leaning over, hanging over the median of the seat, he gently slapped Probie's grey face. He'd thought Probie's face was a disturbing color before? That was _nothing_ compared to now. "McGee!"

Probie didn't respond, just sat slumped in his seatbelt, and Tony cursed again. He scooped up the water bottle, half the contents now spilled around Probie's feet, and liberally doused his hands with the water. Then he went back to gently slapping at McGee's cheeks. He received a soft groan in response, and McGee's eyes flickered under his eyelids. Chewing his lip, Tony checked his partner's pulse.

It was thready and racing under his fingertips, like a terrified bunny who'd been surprised, but it was there, and Tony breathed a small sigh of relief. When he'd seen McGee's eyes roll back in his head like that, he'd honestly thought for a minute that he'd killed the Probie. Abby would have never forgiven him for that, and Gibbs would have most definitely killed Tony himself.

But Probie was alive.

Sitting back, Tony tried to calm his own frantic pulse, puzzling over the problem in front of him. He'd never been much good at puzzles. Alright, why had McGee freaked out like that? He'd passed the bus with no problem ---so there was a bit a problem, but Probie had gotten over it--- so why was the rain such a problem…? They hadn't even been _driving, _but seeing the rain had made McGee pass out.

He hadn't even realized something was wrong, hadn't noticed the odd catch in McGee's voice when he was talking about the rainclouds. It wasn't until Tony had spotted McGee's hands floating back onto the steering wheel, and he'd glanced over. McGee's face had been a million miles away, and he didn't even seem to hear Tony when he'd asked if McGee was alright.

And then he'd just jerked his head back, eyes rolling up, and let out this long, slow breath that reminded Tony eerily of the last breaths of people he'd shot, and it had scared him to pieces. He'd honestly believed he'd killed Probie.

But Probie was alive and it was the rain that had freaked him out, not the bus. Why the rain?

Thinking back on their previous conversation about driving ---the conversation that had, in fact, prompted this little session--- Tony could suddenly recall something about windshield wipers and rain. And _then_ McGee crashed his beauty of a first car into the side of the bus.

Still chewing uselessly on his lip, Tony glanced over at McGee, glad to see that _some_ color was returning to the younger agent's face.

So what, the rain had triggered some sort of flashback or something…?

"_I was trying to figure out the wipers. Took my eyes off the road for a second."_

McGee's words from that day suddenly flashed through his mind, and Tony winced. Okay, lesson learned. Check the weather reports next time.

Dousing his hands with some more water, Tony leaned over once again, tapping McGee's cheeks with the chilled appendages. "Come on, McGee, wakey wakey. We're almost home."

He was pleased to see another faint fluttering behind McGee's eyelids, and then those green orbs opened and McGee blinked at seeing Tony so close to him.

"Tony? What are you doing?" and Tony was more than pleased to hear only the slightest hint of stress in Probie's voice. The Senior Field Agent grinned.

"Well, you fainted like a little girl, so I was graciously waking you up so you could drive us back home."

McGee paled, but it was nowhere near that ugly grey color from before. Swallowing, he looked out the window at the still dripping rain, then back at Tony. "Tony could you…I don't think I can…" Something in his throat jerked, like he was resisting the urge to throw up, and Tony took pity on the kid.

"Alright, get out. I'll drive us back."

Face radiating nothing but relief and gratefulness, McGee scrambled out of the car, nearly running to the passenger side. Tony slid over the middle, settling in the driver's seat. He glanced over to make sure McGee was strapped in.

"You good, McGee?"

"Yeah, Tony. I'm good."

"Alright."

Time to head home.

**XXXX**

Tony turned the car off, unlocking the seat belt. He cast yet another glance at McGee.

Probie, his eyes closed, said calmly, "Stop staring at me, Tony. I'm fine."

"Right." Tony didn't sound convinced, but he let the subject drop.

With a sigh, McGee opened his eyes, climbing out of the car. "See you tomorrow, Tony," the younger agent said with a shaky smile. Then he leaned back down and held out his hand. "My bus pass, Tony?"

Pulling out the plastic card with a grin, Tony handed it over.

"See you next Sunday for your next driving lesson, Probie!"

Tony could hear McGee's grumbles as he stomped away.

Tony just chuckled.

**OOOO**

**I was watching "Hometown Hero" where McGee was talking about how he hadn't driven a car since he crashed his Camaro on his 16****th**** birthday. Then I realized that McGee was driving his little Porche in "Twisted Sister". So I wondered how he got the courage up to get behind the wheel again, and this little gemlet was born. Because I could totally see Tony trying to help McGee out with this throw-him-to-the-wolves mentality.**

**I thought it was cute. I hope I kept everyone in character. What did you think? Leave me a review and let me know, please!**

**~Until next time!**


End file.
